


Charmed

by Deadlihood



Series: I've Put A Spell On You [2]
Category: GOT7, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe- Fantasy, Alternate Universe- Witches, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadlihood/pseuds/Deadlihood
Summary: A collection of oneshots set in the same universe as Bewitched.





	1. Childhood Love

Jackson was ten when they first met. It was a hot summer day in August and he’d escaped the stuffy house with a Popsicle and climbed the tree at the back of his yard. He settled himself into the crook of two branches, back against the trunk, and broke into his cherry Popsicle.

His mouth was stained red and he was licking the sticky juice off his fingers when he noticed a face watching him. He yelped and nearly fell out of the tree. The face emerged from the crown of leaves and Jackson realized it was a boy, probably his own age. He was sitting in the tree on the other side of the wall, watching Jackson with round eyes.

“Hi,” Jackson said, stuffing the wrapper and Popsicle stick into the pocket of his shorts.

“Hi.” The boy shifted, skinny legs draped over either side of the tree branch he was sitting on. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jackson. I live here.”

“I’m Mark.” They stared at each other for an uncomfortable length of time. “What school do you go to?”

They figured out they went to the same elementary school and talked about the upcoming end of summer break. Mark had to go when his dad started calling him for dinner, slithering down the tree expertly. Jackson skinned his knees on the way down and got a lecture from his mom about hurting himself.

\--

Jackson was fourteen when he first saw magic. He and Mark had been riding their bikes around the neighborhood, chattering back and forth about Homecoming and Mark’s volleyball tryouts. Jackson hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, swerved into a trashcan, and went down.

“Are you okay?” Mark asked, dropping his own bike off to the side to help pull Jackson up. The younger boy yelped when Mark touched his arm.

“I think my arm is broken.” Jackson looked up at him through watery eyelashes. “My parents are going to kill me.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Mark swore under his breath. “Come on, let’s go to my house. My dad will know what to do.” They abandoned their bikes and walked slowly back to Mark’s house. Jackson had to stop every few houses to catch his breath. Every movement made his arm throb in pain. The sun had started to go down by the time they made it back to Mark’s house. If Jackson didn’t make it home soon, he was going to be dead. And then his parents would kill him again for breaking his arm.

“Dad?” Mark called. The house seemed to echo with it. Mark’s mom came out of the living room, and took in the scraped, teary mess of Jackson.

“Oh, what happened to you, Seunie?” She asked, hurrying him into a chair.

“Bike accident.” Jackson mumbled.

“Mark.” His mother gave him a meaningful look; he glared right back at her.

“You know what his parents will do if he comes home like this.” Mark reminded her. She just sighed, and went upstairs.

“What’s going on?” Jackson asked.

“Nothing. I’ll get you some ice.” By the time Mark came back with a bag of frozen peas, his father had come downstairs, reading glasses still perched on the tip of his nose.

“What seems to be the problem?” Raymond asked, pulling up a chair to sit next to Jackson.

“I think his arm is broken.” Mark said, gingerly pressing the peas to Jackson’s arm. He screamed in response.

“Definitely a break.” Raymond took off his glasses, and looked at Jackson very carefully. “Son, can you keep a secret?”

“What secret?” Jackson really didn’t understand why he was there and why no one had called his parents yet. They were going to be so mad.

“It’s a very important secret. And if it gets out, it would hurt all of us.” Raymond watched his face carefully, then nodded. “All right. Mark, get some shepherd’s purse for me.”

“Some _what?_ ” Jackson thought maybe he was getting delirious with pain. “What’s going on?”

“I’m a witch.” Raymond said as nonchalantly as if he was discussing the weather. Mark came back with a small packet of leaves and handed them to his father. “Do you trust me?”

Jackson didn’t know how to answer that question. It was just Mark’s dad, the man he’d seen practically every day for the past four years. But he was brandishing some kind of dried leaves at him and he said he had magical powers.

“Do you trust _me_?” Mark asked, reaching for Jackson’s good hand. This was Mark. His best friend. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Jackson let him hold his hand.

“I trust you.” Jackson said faintly.

“I’m glad you two have such a good bond.” Raymond held out one of the leaves. “Hold this under your tongue, Seunie.” Jackson obeyed, grimacing at the taste. “I know, it’s not good. I’ll be quick.” Raymond held his hands over Jackson’s swollen arm, his fingertips just brushing it. Jackson watched in awe as his arm began to glow and the pain dissipated. When Raymond took his hands away, his arm was back to normal. He wiggled his fingers experimentally; no pain.

“You are magical.” Jackson muttered. He spat the shepherd’s purse out into a napkin. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Seunie.” Raymond patted his hand gently. “Now, Dorine called your parents and told them you were staying for dinner. Go wash your face.”

Mark had to tug him out of his seat to get him to the bathroom, where he helped clean the scrapes and cuts on Jackson’s arms.

“So…are you a witch?” Jackson asked as Mark dabbed at his shoulder with a washcloth.

“No. Just my dad.” Mark wrung the washcloth out and tossed it into the hamper. “He says magic doesn’t always pass on directly. It’s like a recessive gene.”

“And you’ve always known about it?”

“Yeah. They were more careful when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t see Dad do anything crazy. But once we were older they told us that he had magic. And made sure we wouldn’t tell anyone.” Mark smiled. “You’re special, Seunie.”

“Thanks.” Jackson put him in a headlock and gave him a noogie with his newly unbroken arm. Mark howled, half indignant, and shoved him out of the bathroom.

“Don’t break him! I just fixed that arm.” Raymond scolded. The two boys piled downstairs to the dinner table, where Raymond performed small magic tricks to Jackson’s delight. Mark just smiled fondly at his friend, glad to be able to take care of him and to be able to share his secret.

\--

Jackson was sixteen when he figured it out. He’d only agreed to go on the date with Jessica because Mark had been dating her best friend and Amy had talked him into it. He hadn’t expected halfway through the movie for her hand to sneak into his lap and squeeze his crotch. He also hadn’t expected to react so violently against it. He’d had to excuse himself to the bathroom and splash water in his face to calm down and not cry.

So there he was, up in the tree that backed up against Mark’s yard, flashing light into Mark’s window. They’d developed this flashlight code long ago. There was no movement in Mark’s house. He sighed and tried it again.

He’d almost decided to give up when he heard the leaves rustling. Then Mark was hauling himself up the tree, clambering to his usual branch.

“What’s up?” Mark asked, out of breath. Jackson took one look at his face and burst into tears. Mark did his best to comfort him without knocking them both out of the tree. Through his sobs, Jackson managed to tell him what had happened.

“I hated it so much, Mark, I don’t understand.” Jackson sniffled. “It felt so _wrong_.”

“Seunie.” Mark clicked his tongue. “You don’t like girls.”

The matter-of-fact way he’d said it made Jackson pause. “What?”

“Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve never had a crush on a girl. You don’t even pay attention to them even when they’re parading themselves in front of you. You don’t like girls, dude.”

“So…so I’m gay?” Jackson felt like he’d left his brain in the movie theater.

“I think you might be. Why else would you be so upset?” Mark reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re okay. Do you want to come stay over?”

“You know my parents will go apeshit if they find out I left.” Jackson snorted. “Unless your dad wants to do some kind of witchy thing to make it look like I’m still in bed.”

“Nah, Dad’s not into that kind of magic.” There was a soft hoot above them; Mark glared through the leaves. “Athens, buzz off. We’re fine.” Jackson craned his neck, but he couldn’t see the owl in the tree. The first time he’d met Athens had been nerve-wracking, especially with those talons. But he’d become a fixture of his life, just another part of the Tuan family. Safe.

“I should go back inside.” Jackson mumbled, letting go of Mark’s hand. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Anything for you.” Jackson had just started to climb down the tree when Mark called him back. “I want to give you something.” He reached behind his head and undid a clasp, handing the medallion to Jackson.

“What is this?” Jackson couldn’t really see it in the dim light, but he could feel the etching under his thumb, the small stone set in the middle.

“Tuan family magic.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“Dad can get another one from Grandma. Take it.” He waited while Jackson put the chain around his neck. The medallion was warm from Mark’s skin and Jackson thought it made him a little calmer.

“Thanks. I’ll come over in the morning.” Jackson waved goodbye and slipped back inside his house. Mark waited in the tree until he saw Jackson’s shape moving in his window.

Jackson didn’t sleep a wink, turning the medallion over in his fingers and mulling over Mark’s pronouncement.

\--

It was the day before Mark’s seventeenth birthday when Jackson had his second realization. The two of them were hanging out in Mark’s room, watching a movie and relaxing. The next day was Mark’s birthday party, so they were spending the day together, just the two of them.

“You need to stop working out.” Mark complained, poking Jackson’s bicep. “It’s too hard to put my head on now.”

“Use your own damn arm as a pillow then.” Jackson shoved at him playfully. Mark had to grab onto him to avoid falling off the bed.

“On my birthday, you do this to me?”

“Your birthday isn’t until tomorrow, princess.” Jackson rolled his eyes. Mark hit him, right on the medallion Jackson still wore.

“Ow! Fuck!” For that, Jackson dove on him, and it quickly became a wrestling match. Jackson may have been stronger, but Mark was slippery. Still, Jackson pinned him down on his back, trapping him in with his body.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, heavy breathing the only noise in the room. Then Mark licked his lips and murmured, “Kiss me.”

Jackson was sure he hadn’t heard right. “What?”

“Kiss me.” A million thoughts flooded through Jackson’s head, the heaviest of them betrayal. How could Mark not have told him? His best friend?

Jackson crushed his lips to Mark’s almost punishingly; the other boy whined against his mouth. Jackson lifted his head, his hands still pinning Mark’s wrists together.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demanded. “You’ve known about me forever, how could you not tell me?”

“It should have been obvious, Seunie.” Mark wiggled in his grip; Jackson didn’t let go. “God, I’ve only been in love with you since the day we met.”

“That long?” Jackson’s world tilted on its axis again. “But…you’ve dated girls.”

“I never said I was gay.” He wiggled again. “Seunie, you’re hurting me.” Jackson let him go, feeling a little numb.

“Why didn’t you tell me that night I came to you crying?” Jackson wrapped his arms around himself, feeling the weight of his hurt deep in his chest. “Fuck, Mark, that was almost a year ago.”

“Please don’t be angry with me.” Mark sat up, his eyes warm and wide as they always were. “Please, I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Scare me? You couldn’t have scared me.”

“I needed to wait, Seunie. I couldn’t have just sprung that on you. Surprise, not only do I like boys, but I love you? That’s a little much.”

“And this wasn’t?”

“Think, Jackson. Think about the last year.” Jackson tried to clear his head and think about the last year. Mark had been by his side during every existential crisis, holding his hand, sleeping next to him to keep him calm. Every day at school, Mark was there. He’d stopped seeing Jessica shortly after Jackson’s disastrous movie date. In every corner of Jackson’s memory, Mark was there.

“You’ve been setting me up for this.” He wasn’t mad; he was more surprised he hadn’t seen it coming. This was hardly a boundary for them to cross. They’d seen each other naked countless times, had shared beds, clothes, pillows, everything. Everything that was Jackson’s was Mark’s, and everything that was Mark’s was Jackson’s.

“Are you mad at me?” Mark asked softly. Jackson sighed and held his arms open. He could never say no to Mark’s pouty face, let alone in this situation. Because he would be a damned liar if he said he wasn’t in love with Mark. It had been pretty obvious ever since Jackson had figured out he was gay. Mark was everything he wanted, because he was _Mark_.

“You’re a little shit.” Jackson mumbled against Mark’s head. “And I hate you for it. But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide.”

“Good.” Mark kissed the inside of his arm. “Will you kiss me gently this time?”

So Jackson held him gently and kissed him softly, and he felt like he’d held an angel in his arms.

\--

Jackson was eighteen when they had sex for the first time. They’d experimented with other things before, but they’d both been a little nervous about actual penetration. After a lot of Internet research, they’d made a very embarrassing trip to a sex store for the necessary lubricant and condoms and gotten leered at by the man behind the register. But they were pretty sure they had a good handle on what they were doing, enough that Jackson wasn’t in immediate danger of hurting Mark.

He hoped, at least.

And they’d tried to set the mood. They’d lit some candles, locked Athens firmly out of the room, and so there they were. Jackson was kneeling between Mark’s spread legs, hoping that his absolute terror wasn’t showing on his face.

“Are you sure about this?” Jackson asked for maybe the millionth time.

“I’m sure, Seunie.” Mark held his arms out for him, and Jackson folded into his arms with a sigh. He pressed a kiss to Mark’s collarbone, trying to soak up some of his boyfriend’s calm.

“What if I hurt you?” Jackson mumbled against his skin.

“You haven’t hurt me yet, baby. I’m going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.” Mark held him and stroked his back until Jackson had a firm grip on his nerves again.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, sitting back on his heels. “Okay.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d fingered Mark, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still terrified as he gently introduced the first finger. Mark just whispered soft encouragements and stroked his shoulders, dropped soft kisses onto the top of Jackson’s bent head.

“You’re still okay?” Jackson asked as he pulled his fingers out to reapply lube. They’d never gone past two fingers, mainly because they’d never been trying to stretch him. Three was unknown territory.

“I’m fine baby.” Mark shifted on the bed, tilting his hips up just a little more. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just scared to hurt you. You have to tell me if it’s too much.” Jackson pushed in slowly, immediately stopping when Mark hissed through his teeth.

“I’m okay, that’s just a new feeling.” Mark reassured him. Jackson still waited until Mark huffed impatiently and wiggled his hips down. Then once he had sunk his fingers all the way in, he twisted them in just the right way and Mark’s mouth twisted in a moan. Jackson prided himself on being able to pull Mark apart at the seams with just the right movements. He just hoped he wouldn’t hurt him.

Another wave of terror hit Jackson when he had slipped on the condom and lubed up. This was the point of no return. Mark, sweet soft Mark, was open before him, his tan skin flushed red. Jackson felt a little overwhelmed with the amount of trust his boyfriend had in him. He lined himself up and, saying a silent prayer, pushed in.

Mark froze up when Jackson was halfway in, his hands gripping the sheets. Jackson peppered his face with kisses until his brow smoothed out and Mark told him to move. He eased the rest of the way in, his arms straining to hold himself up. He knew it was going to feel good but he didn’t think it would be this good, this overwhelming.

“Fucking hell, Mark.” Jackson managed to get out through his clenched teeth.

“That good?”

“Oh my God, you have no idea.” Jackson shifted on his knees and Mark yelped, his back arching off the bed. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, you hit my prostate.” Mark relaxed back onto the bed. “I’m okay Seunie. You can move.”

Jackson started off slow, trying to figure out the best angle and rhythm to move at. The feeling of Mark around him was almost too much. His focus wasn’t going to last too long. Mark was clawing at his back by the time he’d settled into a steady rhythm, the push and slide much smoother and easier than before.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.” Mark whispered in his ear. “Always.”

“Always,” Jackson agreed, tangling their fingers together. Neither of them lasted that long, which they had expected thanks to their thorough research. Jackson collapsed onto his side, suddenly exhausted. Mark just petted through his damp hair.

“I love you, Jackson.” Mark told him when he finally managed to flop up towards the pillows.

“I love you too.” Jackson gave him a sweet kiss. “We should get cleaned up.”

“I suppose.” Mark’s knees weren’t ready to hold him up, but Jackson didn’t mind supporting him towards the bathroom. They slipped under the shower together, trading soft, wet kisses. When they piled back into Mark’s bed, soft and warm and sleepy, Jackson felt closer to Mark than ever. He’d been inside him, had felt him in the most intimate way possible. And Mark had trusted him, opened himself up to him.

He was the luckiest person alive, to have his own angel to love.

\--

Jackson was twenty when his parents found out. He’d come home for the weekend, under the guise of visiting his parents but mostly to see Mark, who had come home from his own college. It had been hard, with Jackson at nursing school and Mark at university, but they’d been making it work.

Mark didn’t know what had happened, only that the charm that his father had made for Jackson had started to glow. He didn’t wait to find out, just scrambled off his bed and ran for Athens, sleeping in his hutch at the end of the hall.

“Athens, go see what’s going on at Jackson’s house.” Mark urged, sending him out the window. He was already halfway up the tree when Athens returned, his feathers ruffled. “Not good, is it?” If the owl could have, Mark thought he would have shaken his head.

From his vantage point in the tree, Mark could see Jackson standing in the living room, his arms wrapped around himself defensively. He was crying, stammering through the tears, while both of his parents faced him with angry expressions.

“Fuck, not good.” Mark muttered, feeling the charm on his wrist vibrating harder. It was horrible to watch Jackson from the tree, to feel his pain and not be able to do anything about it. Mark had wished for magic a few times in his life, but never as strongly as he did right then. Anything to save his Jackson.

Jackson finally stumbled back upstairs to his bedroom, where he was haphazardly grabbing things and throwing them into his bag. Mark slid down the tree on Jackson’s side so fast he burned his palms on the bark. Careful to avoid the light from the living room, he slipped around the side of the house towards Jackson’s car.

The younger boy was there in just a few minutes, still crying too hard to talk. Mark just ushered him into the car and drove it around the block to his own driveway. Mark thanked his lucky stars that his parents weren’t home to ask awkward questions or hover.

“Baby, what happened?” Mark asked, sitting Jackson in a kitchen chair.

“They saw my phone.” Jackson hiccupped out. “They found out I’m gay.”

“And?”

“They threw me out. They don’t want to see me ever again.” Jackson started wailing harder. Mark didn’t know what to do, but his hands did. He dove into the potion ingredients, pulling what he needed and mixing them into the pot on the stove. He couldn’t use magic, but he could mix potions.

“Let me take your pain away.” Mark said, handing the finished potion to Jackson. “Let me help you.” It took a couple tries to get the potion down because of his ragged breathing, but soon Jackson was going limp in Mark’s arms. He helped his boyfriend up the stairs and into his bed, curling himself around him protectively.

Mark stroked his hair gently, feeling the tension and pain bleeding out of Jackson’s body. “This is your home now. It always has been, and it always will be.”


	2. The Face Beneath the Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung saves a life.

There was nothing like the ocean at midnight.

Jinyoung had driven from his apartment with Jacques in a bucket of water, careful not to jostle him too hard. But it was midnight, and no one was around to see him heaving the bucket down the shore. He deposited the bucket and his shoes and wallet before walking into the waves with Jacques in his arms.

There was a rock formation not too far out that he preferred to sit on when they made midnight visitations like this. He pulled his dripping body up the rock, leaving Jacques to cling to the submerged portion. Arms spread wide to feel the breeze, Jinyoung took a deep breath of the salty air. This was his home, his natural habitat. A sea witch needed to be in the waves.

He basked in the moonlight, the waves washing over his legs every now and then. He could almost fall asleep like this, being cradled by the ocean while she sang a lullaby to him. A big wave spat a blanket of seaweed over him, which he carefully disentangled from himself and returned to the water.

Eventually he sat up, his feet dangling in the water, and scanned the ocean. The current was rough, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The waves had birthed him, and they would not drown him. He could feel the fish nearby, the barnacles on the rock, the scuttling of crabs on the seafloor.

Off in the darkness he saw a smooth shape emerge from the water. Not a shark, not something that belonged to his water. He slipped further into the water to feel what the other presence was.

A surfer. A surfer, at midnight, in a growing riptide. Jinyoung swore and dove all the way into the water. This idiot was going to end up dead if he didn’t do something about it. Jacques followed somewhere beside him as he swam, using his magic to clear the current from their path. Jinyoung ducked under a wave and came up to see that the surfer had disappeared.

The surfboard popped out of the water, smooth and empty in the moonlight. Jinyoung dove again, following his senses to the surfer. It was like trying to juggle and peel fruit at the same time, clearing the water so he could see and making sure he didn’t get swept into the riptide himself. He popped up for air briefly and dove again.

The surfer was being battered by the current, smacking against the seashell and rock covered seafloor as it dragged him out to sea. Jinyoung’s hand shot out and the surfer’s body stilled. It was with great effort that Jinyoung pulled the surfer back, hand over hand like reeling in a rope. Once he was safely out of the current, Jinyoung pulled them both back to the surface.

The surfer wasn’t breathing, and Jinyoung knew he had only a few minutes to save his life. Jacques wrapped his tentacles around Jinyoung’s shoulders, steadying his power until Jinyoung could tow them through the waves without being subjected to the push and pull of the ocean.

Jinyoung lay the surfer on his back and knelt over him. It would take all of his concentration and Jacques’s help to accomplish this without killing the surfer. Carefully, Jinyoung called to the water in the surfer’s lungs, drawing it back up his throat and out of his body. It took a beat or two before the surfer began to breathe again.

Jinyoung slumped on the sand, too exhausted to move. He hadn’t carried the surfer far enough and the water was still washing over their legs. Jacques stayed close, one tentacle wrapped around Jinyoung’s ankle like a clammy, comforting bracelet.

The surfer began to stir and Jinyoung knew he should leave, should avoid having to explain how he had saved him, but he was too tired. If he could have gotten up, he would have submerged his body in the waves and recharged that way.

“Oh, ouch.” The surfer said, taking stock of his injuries. He was bleeding from many tiny cuts from the sand and shells, and he ached all over.

“Next time don’t go surfing at midnight in a fucking riptide.” Jinyoung muttered, and the surfer started. He hadn’t even noticed the man lying next to him. He looked to be about the same age, dressed in street clothes and completely drenched. Two large pearls hung from each ear, and there was…Jaebum had to blink a couple times, no, that was definitely an octopus with a tentacle around his ankle.

“Did you jump in the water fully clothed?” Jaebum asked.

“Not important.” The other man sat up with a groan, the octopus releasing his ankle slowly. “Don’t surf at midnight alone. There may not be someone to dig you out again.”

“How did you pull me out?”

“Not important.”

“It is important! How did you manage to get us out of a riptide by yourself? And why are you wearing jeans?”

“I’m a sea witch.” Jinyoung hoped his tone would make it seem sarcastic, but the surfer barely blinked.

“A sea witch? That explains the octopus.” Jaebum gestured at Jacques, who blanched in response. “So what do you do? Were you down here casting a spell?”

Jinyoung gaped at him. “You don’t think it’s a little bit strange to have someone saw they’re a sea witch?”

“You’ve got two giant rough pearls in your ears, you’re fully clothed, and you’re unconcerned about the octopus hanging onto your foot. And you managed to get us out of the water without a raft, a lifesaver, any help. What other explanation is there other than magic?”

Jinyoung thought if the surfer wasn’t so stupid, he might actually be in danger of falling in love with him. “You’re taking to this rather well.”

“So you really are a sea witch.”

“Yes.” Jinyoung sighed, scooting down the sand a little to put his feet more in the waves. “I come every week or so to recharge in the water. Jacques likes to be in the ocean, I need to be in the ocean to keep my magic in balance.”

“Is Jacques the-?”

“Yes, Jacques is the octopus. He’s my familiar.”

“You used magic to save my life.”

“I used _a lot_ of magic to save your life. Getting to you, pulling you out of the riptide, taking the water out of your lungs. I can’t get up.”

“Do you need to get back in the water?”

“It would help.”

“I’m not sure I can really stand either, but maybe together we can get there.”

The two of them stood unsteadily and wobbled into the water, where Jinyoung promptly fell into the waves, only his face emerging. Jaebum settled near him, thinking about the ocean that had just nearly killed him, but was healing the other man. He certainly seemed at peace in the waves, his body moving back and forth gently as the waves tugged at him.

And then he began to glow. Jaebum yelped in surprise as the water around him turned gold and started to foam. But as the water bubbled around him, Jinyoung felt strength returning to his limbs. It took a while, but soon enough he was strong enough to stand and help Jaebum out of the water.

“So you go swimming in street clothes all the time?” Jaebum asked as they walked back up the beach.

“Well, when you can do this it helps.” Jinyoung passed a hand over himself and was completely dry. Jaebum gaped in amazement. “When you’re a water witch, you learn this kind of trick first.” He coaxed Jacques into his bucket before straightening up. “Do you want me to dry you?”

“It would be nice.” Jaebum watched in awe as his wetsuit dried completely and his hair stopped sticking to his forehead. “Thank you, by the way. For saving my life.”

“Don’t surf at midnight. Not every sea witch would save you.” Jinyoung looked out over the ocean. “When she calls, most witches would let you go to her.”

Jaebum suddenly understood why sailors spoke about the ocean as if it had sentience. It probably did, and had probably nearly swallowed him whole. It would probably be a while before he could surf again.

“What’s your name?” Jaebum blurted. The witch looked up from where he was tucking a tentacle back into the bucket.

“Jinyoung.”

“I’m Jaebum.”

“Be careful in the water, Jaebum.” Jinyoung hefted the bucket, and walked away. Jaebum watched his silvery shape disappear into the shadows.

\--

Jaebum felt infinitely creepy doing this, just wandering the aquarium looking for an employee with dark hair and pearl earrings. But what better place for a water witch to work than at the aquarium? He’d already asked around the local surf shops and no one knew Jinyoung. So here he was, in the middle of the day, looking at tanks full of tropical fish and hoping to stumble into the man who’d saved his life.

When he finally found him, it was because they had literally run into each other. Jaebum had been entranced by the jellyfish and had turned around abruptly, slamming directly into Jinyoung. The sea witch yelped and collided with the tanks. Only Jaebum noticed the slight pulse in the water when Jinyoung rested his hand on the glass; probably soothing the jellyfish.

“What are you doing here?” Jinyoung asked. The surfer was definitely prettier in the daylight when he wasn’t half-drowned.

“Um. Looking for you.” Jaebum scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I knew it was kind of a long shot but I, uh, I wanted to…” Jinyoung had an idea of what Jaebum was about to ask him and his ears turned pink. “I wanted to know if you’d like to go on a date with me sometime.”

Jinyoung chose his words carefully. “I don’t do parlor tricks, Jaebum. And I won’t be a pet.”

“And I wouldn’t ask that of you. But I was thinking about that night, and what you said. That not everyone would have pulled me out. And that seems to point to you having a good heart. And you’re not hard to look at. I just want to get to know you, and see if my intuition is right.”

“Hopefully your intuition wasn’t what led to you surfing at midnight.” Jinyoung said drily. He didn’t have a problem dating a normie, and it was definitely easier that Jaebum already knew about his gift. What was the worst that could happen? Jaebum tried to expose him? No one would believe him, and Mark could whip up some kind of forgetfulness potion to make the memories fuzzier. He would be protected. “Okay. I get off work around five p.m. Do you want to get coffee?”

“Today?”

“Sure. Why wait? You might get swallowed by another riptide.” Jaebum laughed and it seemed to echo in the jellyfish room.

“Okay. I’ll meet you outside at five then.” They traded phone numbers and Jaebum headed out, leaving Jinyoung looking into the jellyfish tanks.

“The ocean gave him back.” He murmured, stroking his finger along the top of the jellyfish. “He might be special.” Even if he wasn’t, Jinyoung thought he might actually grow to really like him. Someone who loved the ocean as much as he did was always welcome in his life.


	3. Heartless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The magical community thinks night witches are heartless. Yoongi isn't so sure they're wrong.

“Taehyung, why are you calling me at work?” Yoongi muttered into the ancient phone at his desk.

“Don’t act like you’re busy. Are the dead keeping you jumping?” Taehyung giggled. “Are they crawling out of their graves to get your attention?”

“Don’t make jokes about that.” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you want, Taehyung?”

“An old friend of mine from school is moving to town. I thought I could introduce him to some of my friends.”

“Is he-?”

“Of course he’s magic. I’m not gonna drag a normie into the middle of a magical club.”

“What’s his gift?” Yoongi leaned back in his chair, looking out the window at the quiet cemetery. He would need to make his rounds soon.

“He’s a love mage.”

“A what mage?”

“A love mage. Like Cupid in a cute little Korean body. He kind of just emits love.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“For some people, yeah. I think he’s got a better grip on it now. Besides, you should be able to withstand him perfectly fine.” _Because you’re a night witch_ went unsaid. Taehyung had been a little judgmental about Yoongi’s power when he first found out about it. But the younger witch had been raised by pacifist parents who believed that bone and blood magic was unnatural, black magic, evil. Yoongi was used to that kind of thing by now.

“I won’t even bother to explain that magic doesn’t work that way. But fine, I’ll meet your friend. When did you want to do it?”

“He’s moving in today, so maybe tomorrow night?”

Yoongi checked his calendar; the moon was waning. Plenty of time before the new moon. “Fine. I’ll see you then.” They hung up and Yoongi left his dusty little office with his work bag.

He took his job as a caretaker very seriously, visiting each grave to clean them of dust, dirt, and debris, pouring a little liquor onto their graves. He murmured benedictions to each as he left them.

Yoongi knew what the magical community thought of him. Grave desecrator, necrophile, black magician. Why would a night witch work in a cemetery if he wasn’t digging up graves for spell ingredients? They couldn’t see beyond his tie to blood and bone magic to what he was really doing. Yoongi missed the days when Hoseok worked with him, listening to the spirits chattering to help them move on. But Hoseok had been overwhelmed with the noise, the spirits vying for his attention. He’d had to quit and find a quieter vocation. He mostly worked in the magical community now, telling fortunes and contacting spirits for people.

Yoongi finished his rounds as the sun was going down. His job at the cemetery as caretaker was over. With his protections in place, there was no need to linger after dark. His charges would be safe for the night.

Contrary to popular opinion, Yoongi preferred to spend his nights outside the cemetery. He preferred spending time in Namjoon’s laboratory to see how they could meld their magics, soaking up moonlight in his own backyard, sleeping, playing video games. He was only twenty-five, for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t a ghoul.

Yoongi was very aware of why he was stewing on this so much as he drove home. He hated meeting new people. The only reason he had even become friends with Taehyung was Seokjin giving the harmonizer a stern talking-to about the kind of witch Yoongi was, and the kind of man he was. He didn’t think he really wanted to meet one of Taehyung’s school friends who probably couldn’t control his magic for shit and would have the same preconceived notions about Yoongi.

It was always comforting to walk into his dark, cool house, and be greeted with the gentle flapping of wings. Bram landed on his shoulder, fluttering to hang upside down from Yoongi’s overgrown hair.

“Hey there.” Yoongi murmured, using one finger to stroke the bat’s soft belly. His mother had been momentarily stunned by Yoongi’s familiar, but she’d adjusted quickly when she realized just how soft and sweet Bram was. And a little sticky; he’d been eating, if Yoongi had to guess. Yoongi checked the little roost he kept for Bram and sure enough, the remains of a peach were in the bottom.

“Are you my sweet boy?” Yoongi cooed as he carried Bram into the kitchen to wipe his face with a damp towel. It was easy to love the little bat, even if he wasn’t his familiar. Bram fluttered off to roost somewhere in the eaves, leaving Yoongi to go into his little workshop. As he stepped over the threshold, the crescent moon and stars etched into the floor flared into view. He’d spelled the workshop against intruders, giving it an extra layer of protection. Bone and blood magic was nothing to be trifled with.

He dumped out his work bag and replaced the herbs and stones that had been depleted, picked up a fresh bottle of whiskey. His work was important, to keep the dead resting easy.

The toll it took on him was only visible to people who knew him. Yoongi looked at himself in his bathroom mirror as he waited for his shower to heat up. He looked tired, dark circles smudging a half-moon under his eyes, his mouth drawn. It was difficult to hold the wards on the cemetery all by himself, too much magic for one body to exert. His magic came at a steep price, but it was one he was willing to pay. And his friends had helped ease his burden a little.

Namjoon was good friends with a normie named Jackson, whose boyfriend was something of a potions whiz. Namjoon and Mark had worked together to make a heating balm for his sore muscles, tonics to help him sleep, potions to help keep his appetite up. And they helped take the edge off. If only they could come up with a potion to make him less lonely.

He had friends. He had Hoseok, and Seokjin and Namjoon, and even Taehyung when he wasn’t being bratty. But there was always a dull ache in his chest when he watched Seokjin and Namjoon together. He craved a relationship, a shadow to mingle with his in the moonlight. Some days he wished he was as heartless as everyone thought he was.

\--

Yoongi wasn’t sure what he had expected Taehyung’s friend to look like, but this definitely wasn’t it. Maybe he’d thought he’d be a literal Cupid, with chubby cheeks and little curls. Or maybe he was expecting cotton candy pink, a boy with pink eyes like a rabbit.

Jimin was none of those things. His hair was silver, his eyes a normal warm brown. He wore a sleeveless black shirt with its neckline cut low on his chest, a forest green velvet coat that reached the middle of his thick thighs, and black jeans. A mess of pendants, all charms and runes, clacked on his chest. But what intrigued Yoongi was the stone he could see beneath the pendants, held to his chest with what looked like black leather straps.

Taehyung had been talking for the past five minutes straight, not letting anyone get a word in edgewise. Yoongi had been examining him quietly over the rim of his glass of lightning cider, the taste of a summer storm lingering on his tongue. Finally, Namjoon reached out and clapped a hand over Taehyung’s mouth.

“I’m sure you’re used to this by now.” Namjoon said, ignoring the furious look Taehyung was giving him. “But we’d like to introduce ourselves before Taehyung really gets on a roll.”

“I was going to introduce you.” Taehyung grumbled, looking like a sulky toddler in black leather.

“Anyway. I’m Namjoon, and this is my husband, Seokjin.” Namjoon had worn his customary robes, with his family’s crest embroidered on the back. Seokjin, flouting magical custom as usual, wore jeans and a buttondown. Yoongi remembered vaguely that Namjoon’s parents hadn’t been thrilled about him marrying a normie; this was probably Seokjin sticking it to his in-laws, even if they weren’t around.

“And you’re the fire mage?” Jimin had a soft voice, a little high.

“Yes. Jin is our resident normie.” Namjoon’s tone almost dared him to say anything about it. Jimin didn’t even blink.

“I’m Hoseok. Spirit witch.” Hoseok was half-curled around his familiar, Melinda, looking as happy as he always did. For someone who dealt primarily with the dead, he certainly was cheerful. Yoongi gritted his teeth and pretended to be completely absorbed in his drink. “Hey, Beetlejuice. It’s your turn.”

Yoongi hated when Hoseok called this jacket his Beetlejuice jacket, even if it was black and white striped. He hated the way Jimin was looking at him expectantly. There would be no softness in his gaze when he introduced himself.

“Yoongi. I’m a night witch.” Yoongi said softly. He waited for Jimin’s pretty face to warp into disgust, for him to turn to Taehyung and make some kind of comment.

“It’s nice to meet all of you.” Jimin said instead. “I’m sure all of you already know I’m a love mage.”

“Taehyung mentioned it, yes.” Namjoon, diplomatic as ever. “What exactly does that entail?”

“In the same way that you can wield fire, I can wield love. As a weapon, as a comfort. Sometimes it controls me more than I control it, but this helps.” Jimin tapped the blue stone strapped to the center of his chest.

“Is that a Siphon?” Namjoon nearly kicked Hoseok out of the way to get closer to Jimin and start interrogating him on the nature of the Siphon, how he’d gotten it, what it was made of.

“Stand down everyone, Professor Namjoon is out tonight.” Seokjin said goodnaturedly, leaning back on his squashy armchair. “Yoongi, could you get me another drink?”

“Lightning cider or witches brew?”

“A black lagoon, please.” Seokjin snorted when he saw the look Yoongi and Hoseok gave him. “Namjoon’s driving.”

“The last time you had a black lagoon, you nearly got into a fight with a very nasty shapeshifter.” Hoseok reminded him. “Namjoon had to singe him and the whole bar smelled like burnt hair for a week.”

“I’ll be fine. Taehyung’s here, he can harmonize me back to normal if need be.” Seokjin wasn’t backing down, and Yoongi wasn’t in the habit of denying himself a chance to see a good show. So he rapped twice on the table, made a gesture, and the glass of pitch black liquid appeared in front of him.

“Good luck, Jinnie.” Yoongi slid the glass over to him. Taehyung had finally managed to get Namjoon to stop grilling Jimin about the Siphon. The love mage got up and moved to the pouf near Yoongi. Yoongi braced himself for the questions, the assumptions.

“I’ve never met a night witch before.” Jimin rapped the table and a glass of witches brew appeared. “What is a night witch?”

“You’ve never heard of us?” Yoongi was honestly surprised. Most people in the magical community had very strong opinions on night witches, and shared them openly.

“Well, I’ve heard that that’s a power that some witches have, but I don’t understand how it works.” Jimin propped his head on his hand and Yoongi was surprised at how small and delicate his hands looked. “So, what do you do?”

“I specialize in bone and blood magic, but a night witch is…we draw power from the dark. From night, from the moon, from the owl, the bat. The creatures that only emerge at night.”

“And the bone and blood magic?”

“What is more powerful than giving up your own blood for a spell? The bones are usually animal bones, chicken bones or whatever is easy to get my hands on at a magical store.”

“You use your own blood to power a spell? Isn’t that exhausting?”

Yoongi thought about the day he’d drawn the wards around his cemetery, how much blood it had cost him and how much power it had taken. Namjoon had taken him to a healer. He was sure Sana still hadn’t recovered from his sudden awakening on her work table, half out of his mind and more than a touch violent. “It’s exhausting. But if there are things that must be done, there’s nothing more powerful.”

Jimin cocked his head to one side, and Yoongi felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. “You protect something, don’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“I can sense love, too.” He gestured at Seokjin and Namjoon. “Being around them is like being wrapped in a fluffy blanket fresh out of the dryer. But when you spoke just now, there was love on you. Tired, painful love.”

“I’m a caretaker at a cemetery. I protect the dead. They’re my charges to watch over and make sure that no one desecrates their bodies, that no one disrupts their rest.”

“Warlocks.”

“I haven’t run into any, but I’m sure they’ve come sniffing around the cemetery.” And that was the real reason people disliked night witches. They considered them to be almost as bad as warlocks, almost as dangerous and remorseless. A warlock would dig up a body and resurrect it for his own nefarious purposes. How different could night witches be?

“They’re just as awful to you as they are to me, aren’t they?” Jimin looked around at the room at large, the different witches milling about.

“People are prejudiced against love mages?”

“They think I’ll enslave them, make them love me so I can use them to do whatever I want.” Jimin tapped his Siphon again. “I got this so people would stop treating me like some kind of love whore. It’s helped, a little.”

“And does it stop your powers?”

“I don’t get accidental leaks anymore. But sometimes it can be a little harder to reach my magic.”

“There’s no reason to ever cage magic. It’s ours. It’s in our blood. Who’s to say that Namjoon wouldn’t use his fire to intimidate people into doing his bidding? Or Taehyung could calm people down and rob them while they stood still. Hoseok could use the words of dead relatives to control live witches. And their powers aren’t seen as dangerous or wrong. Neither are ours.” Yoongi stopped short, realizing he was breathing hard. Jimin was looking at him like…like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or start undressing him. Yoongi’s stomach swooped at the thought.

“Yoongi…” Jimin’s voice was practically a purr. “Has anyone told you you’re terribly attractive when you go on a rant?”

“Rarely.”

“Then let me be the first to tell you that you are very sexy when you go off on magical prejudices.”

Yoongi swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “Would you like to get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Within a minute, Yoongi and Jimin had said hurried goodbyes and escaped out to the parking lot.

“Do you trust me?” Yoongi asked once they were outside.

“Obviously, if I’m coming home with you.”

“Let me show you some of my magic.” He held his arms out, waiting for Jimin to step into them. He felt solid and warm against his body, and he smelled heavenly. Vetiver and something spicy. Yoongi wrapped his arms tight around Jimin’s slender waist, and cloaked them in shadow.

Yoongi had never come up with a better name for this particular act than shadow-hopping. He materialize in different shadows, using them to make his way home by hopping from pocket to pocket. Jimin was giggling excitedly by the time they made it to Yoongi’s house.

Since Yoongi didn’t think the love mage would have night vision as good as his, he flicked the switch and several salt rock lamps glowed to life.

“Ooh, I love these.” Jimin said, going to examine one of them.

“They don’t hurt my eyes, so I keep a lot of them.” Yoongi took off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. “I should warn you, my familiar is a bat.”

“A bat?” Jimin squeaked, instinctively crouching as if he expected Bram to fly into his hair.

“He’s a fruit bat. Very friendly.” Yoongi whistled between his teeth and then Bram was fluttering onto his shoulder. “Would you like to meet him?”

Jimin approached cautiously, as if he was worried that Bram would bite him. As soon as he stroked Bram’s velvety wing, his soft belly, he relaxed. “I thought he’d feel…gross.”

“Everyone does. Bats get a bad rap just like we do.” Yoongi snorted, rubbing Bram’s head with the tip of his finger. “A night witch with a bat familiar, could I be more of a cliché?”

“My familiar is a lovebird. I’m not much better off.” Jimin shrugged. “Not that I’m not interested in him, but I’d really like to kiss you and I’m afraid I’d knock him off your shoulder.”

“Bram, go.” Yoongi ordered, and the bat took off to roost.

“Can I trust you not to kill me?” Jimin asked later, when he was naked, straddling Yoongi’s lap.

“Can I trust you not to make me fall in love with you?” Yoongi countered.

“Fair.” Jimin pulled his pendants over his head and deposited them on the nightstand. “What about you?”

“Unfortunately, my charms don’t come off.” Yoongi unbuttoned his shirt and slid out of it, revealing arms covered in swirling black ink.

“You tattooed your charms on?” Jimin ran a fingertip over the butterfly tattooed just below Yoongi’s ribcage. It tickled, making him tense up his stomach.

“That one’s decorative.” He grunted out. “The others are charms.”

“I’ll have to look at them later.” From there on, Jimin was all business, stripping Yoongi out of his clothes before settling back into his lap. Yoongi hooked his fingers in the harness holding the Siphon to Jimin’s chest and flipped him onto his back.

Rather than question him, Jimin hooked his arms under his thighs, lifting his hips and exposing himself to Yoongi. “Do you want me to make love to you, Jiminnie?”

“I don’t care what you do. I’ll take anything you’ll give me.”

“Anything?” Yoongi mused as he began to slide in.

“Anything.” Jimin gasped out.

“And if I would give you everything?”

“Then I’d take all of it.” Both of them were struck by the truth in his words.

“It’s a good thing you’re wearing that Siphon. Because otherwise I might actually fall in love with you tonight.” With that, Yoongi snapped his hips deep up into Jimin, and coherent words fled. Neither of them knew then that they had made magic.

Sometimes, two witches copulating could have a magical effect, their magics joined and growing. The wards around Yoongi’s cemetery glowed pink, Jimin’s magic strengthening them. Yoongi could feel the burden on his body lessening, even as he continued jackhammering into Jimin.

Spent, they lay together in a golden haze, a literal afterglow of magic. Jimin raised a hand into it, watching it part around his fingers like waves.

“I’ve only heard rumors about this.” Jimin murmured. “That two witches can create magic like this.”

“Maybe it means we’re special.” Yoongi’s voice was muffled by Jimin’s shoulder. He was sleepy, his limbs heavy and his heart content.

“I think you are special, Yoongi.” Jimin stroked a finger down the length of his spine. “I hope you’re not planning on getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“Oh no, Jiminnie. I plan on keeping you around for a long time.” And he meant it. Maybe he wasn’t as heartless as everyone thought, or maybe he just needed Jimin to be his heart.


	4. Best of Me

“This is going to be a disaster, I can already feel it.” Jungkook moaned, his head in his hands. He felt a comforting pat on the back of his head.

“I felt the same way when I met Joon’s parents. We all go through it when we marry into magic.” Seokjin reassured him. “Now, I haven’t met Tae’s parents, but he wouldn’t take you there if he didn’t think it would go well.”

“What if one of them throws a fireball at me or something?”

“If my mother-in-law didn’t set my hair on fire during our first meeting, you’ll be fine. Plus, Taehyung’s parents are pacifists. None of them use any offensive magic.”

Jungkook lifted his head. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“They use defensive magic, and Taehyung relies pretty heavily on his charms. That’s why he’s got you all decorated like a Christmas tree.” Seokjin gestured at Jungkook’s earrings, the rings on his right hand, the carved feather sticking out of his t-shirt. “He doesn’t have offensive magic to protect you, so he uses defensive magic to keep you safe.”

“Does Namjoon use offensive magic?”

“Only when he has to. Fire is such a volatile element. I’ve only seen him do it once.” Seokjin’s mouth twitched unhappily.

“Was he protecting you?”

“No. Yoongi.”

“ _Yoongi_ needed protecting?” Jungkook thought of the vicious way light reflected off Yoongi’s teeth, the tattooed runes that patterned his chest and arms, the sheer strength that seemed to radiate off him.

“He was refusing to use his magic to defend himself, so Namjoon stepped in. This was before Jimin, when Yoongi didn’t have a lot of friends in the community. Joon saw Yoongi getting picked on and injured, and he got fired up before Yoongi could tell him not to.” Seokjin shrugged. “No one died. And people learned not to fuck with Yoongi.”

“And if what Tae has told me is true, Jimin has some intense offensive magic.”

“Well his dad taught him all of that. When magical parents perceive a sort of weakness in their children’s innate abilities, they teach different magic to make up for it.” Seokjin blinked. “How did we get on this topic?”

“I was trying not to think about meeting my boyfriend’s parents today.”

“You’re going to be fine, Kookie. I promise. Taehyung won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Jungkook didn’t feel exactly soothed, but he didn’t really have a choice. He’d been putting off this dinner for ages and now that he’d finally agreed, he couldn’t go back on it. So, he got himself dressed in the clothes that Yugyeom had lent him, suitable for meeting magical parents, and waited for Taehyung to pick him up.

“You look great, Kookie.” Taehyung said when he finally stopped kissing him. He was always overenthusiastic when he was saying hello, or goodbye, or good night, or anything really.

“Thanks.” Jungkook tugged uncomfortably at the heavy brocade of the jacket. It had taken a while for him to get used to the gentle swirl of the pattern, the colors shifting and morphing as they moved. At least he’d been able to skip out on the leather pants that everyone seemed to wear. Taehyung had a pair on himself, in a deep burgundy color. The long, cobalt blue sweater he was wearing had a blooming flower garden on it, the enchantment in the fabric making the flowers sway in an invisible breeze.

“They’re going to love you, baby.” Taehyung assured him, leading him over to the car. “Do you want me to keep you calm?”

“I’m afraid if I’m _too_ calm they’ll think something’s wrong with me.” Jungkook admitted. “Maybe just take the edge off?”

“Okay.” Taehyung kissed his forehead and some of his unease faded. It was enough to get him into the car, Taehyung’s hand resting on his knee comfortingly.

His parents lived a few cities over; if Jungkook wasn’t still terrified of broomsticks, they could have flown there in half the time. But after hearing Yugyeom’s description of riding with Taehyung, Jungkook refused to get anywhere near one. Hoseok had offered to take him riding but something about the way he’d smiled when he offered made Jungkook even more nervous. So the car it was, even though Taehyung was speeding. Jungkook didn’t mind the speeding, he drove worse than that and his car wasn’t even magically camouflaged like Tae’s.

In too short a time, they arrived at the Kim’s house. Jungkook could tell Taehyung had hit him with another wave of calm because he didn’t feel like sprinting away immediately after he got out of the car. Taehyung still kept a firm hold on his hand as they walked up the front steps.

Taehyung’s mom had his exact smile. It made Jungkook feel a little better so that joyous smile copied in her face. He was a little surprised when she grabbed him and Taehyung into a hug so tight that he thought he might crack a rib.

“Oh, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Mrs. Kim said, ushering them inside. “Taehyung has been telling us about you for ages and we couldn’t wait until you came over for dinner.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Jungkook glanced around the living room; it was less magically decorated than he had initially thought it would be. He’d seen Jimin and Yoongi’s house and it looked like a witch’s lair. This place looked like a fairly normal house, with the exception of the strange instruments on the table.

“My dad likes astronomy.” Taehyung said, following Jungkook’s gaze. “Those are his stargazing tools, enhanced with magic. He’ll probably take us outside after dinner to show us some stars.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Mrs. Kim called from the kitchen.

“Do you have any of that strawberry lightning cider left?” Taehyung took off into the kitchen, leaving Jungkook like a boat without an anchor. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, careful not to touch anything. He’d learned that the hard way when he’d touched something at Tuan and Sons and started growing cat ears. He’d had to wear a hat for a week while they shrank back to normal.

“My mom makes her own lightning cider, it’s so good.” Taehyung said, shoving a glass into Jungkook’s hand. Jungkook took a tentative sip; the usual electric taste of the lightning cider was mixed with the flavor of a sun-warmed strawberry on his tongue.

“Can I just have this for dinner?” Jungkook muttered. Taehyung laughed, just as a loud clatter came in from the kitchen.

“Now, where’s my boy?” A voice boomed, even deeper than Taehyung’s. Jungkook nearly jumped out of his skin. Then he was meeting Taehyung’s father and trying to keep up with his rapid-fire chatter about the farm out back and the magical herbs he was trying to bring back to the area. “And Taehyung says you work with computers?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m part of the tech department at our company.” Jungkook would have preferred talking about witchy things. Even if he didn’t understand it fully, it felt like it was bringing less attention to his outsiderness.

“Fascinating.” Mr. Kim sat on the couch. “Computers are true magic, you know? All those little metal bits working in harmony to do such incredible things.”

“He says this, but he’s as hopeless with computers as I am.” Taehyung broke in. “Neither of us can be near a computer without something going haywire.”

“I know. Remember, Seokjin and Yugyeom make me take care of your computer mishaps?” Jungkook had never been so busy in his life trying to keep Taehyung’s computer functional along with working on his own projects.

They made small talk until a plate of chicken whizzed past Jungkook’s head and into the dining room. He yelped and dropped behind the coffee table, huddling behind it as he watched various dishes and pieces of cutlery fly over his head. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck comfortingly.

“Mom likes to set the table like that, I should have warned you.” Taehyung helped Jungkook off the floor. Jungkook was bright red, embarrassed that he’d reacted so badly in front of the Kims. But neither seemed offended or even judgmental. He managed to keep his cool while the chicken served itself onto his plate, controlled by Mrs. Kim’s deft hands. He’d seen weirder than this at the magical bars that Taehyung took him to.

“How’s it going with the moonflower crop?” Taehyung asked when they all began to eat.

“I’m still having trouble getting them to take root. I’ve tried all sorts of different soils and watering levels and they still won’t root.” Mr. Kim frowned, stabbing at a green bean. “This is probably why they haven’t grown in the area for so long.”

“Yugyeom might be able to help.” Jungkook piped up before realizing he probably shouldn’t have said anything.

“You know, you’re right.” Taehyung looked thoughtful. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that myself. Our friend is an earth witch and I know he’s worked a little with magical plants.”

“Yugyeom…why is that name familiar?” Mrs. Kim asked.

“Isn’t he the one that led you on a charge into the warlock den?” Mr. Kim’s mouth turned down disapprovingly when Taehyung nodded sheepishly. “Hotheaded, isn’t he?”

“I’d say brave.” Jungkook really needed to shut the fuck up. “If he hadn’t gotten everyone to act, there would be a lot of warlocks running around with high-level powers. He saved a lot of witches’ lives and nearly lost his own doing it.” Jungkook was just a little protective of Yugyeom, even if his best friend could cause earthquakes.

“You and Yugyeom are good friends.” Mrs. Kim said. Jungkook nodded, his jaw finally shut tight. “His actions were commendable, although a newly minted witch and a harmonizer with no offensive magic shouldn’t have been the front line.”

“Namjoon was in there. So were Hoseok and Yoongi, and a lot of other witches Yugyeom cared about. And he handled himself well enough, and so did I.” Taehyung took a deep breath. “I’m going to start learning some offensive spells.”

Jungkook desperately wished Taehyung had waited for another time to make a pronouncement like this. He could feel the impending fight brewing in the middle of the table and he really wanted to just crawl under the table and hide.

Surprisingly, Mr. Kim just shrugged. “You’re an adult. You can make your own choices. You know how we feel about offensive magic, but I certainly can’t stop you from learning.” Taehyung let out a long breath and Jungkook relaxed along with him.

The dinner progressed easily. Jungkook found himself actually enjoying the back and forth banter, and the questions about his work and how he and Taehyung had met. And Taehyung had been right; after dinner, Mr. Kim took them outside onto the field with the astronomy equipment and showed them several constellations up close. Jungkook had never seen something so incredible and it was hard to pry him away from the instruments. He wanted to know how they worked, what magical adaptations had been made to them. But that was how he’d always been, always fascinated by what made things work and how they were put together.

It was nearing midnight when he and Taehyung left with several bottles of the homemade lightning cider and a promise to ask Yugyeom to swing by to look at the moonflowers. Jungkook practically melted into the passenger seat.

“Did you have a good time?” Taehyung asked as he took the sharp left to get back onto the road.

“I did. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to drop that whole offensive magic thing on them?” Jungkook demanded.

“I knew they’d react like that. They might be pacifists but they also know I live around a lot of other witches and that makes me a target for other magic users. They want me to be safe and they know I wouldn’t have made this kind of decision lightly.” Taehyung glanced over at him. “Besides, now I have you to think about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Namjoon has so many wards and spells on Seokjin that I think it would take an army of witches to get through them. Our normie partners are at risk because of their association with us. I would never forgive myself if I let you get hurt because I didn’t know any offensive magic.”

“I don’t want you to compromise your beliefs for me. Why not ask Namjoon to do the wards?”

“It’s too much of a drain on his powers to keep the magic alive on you and Jin. And I want to be the one that does the wards for you. You’re my boyfriend, I should be the one to do it.”

“Is it some kind of magical territory marking thing?”

“I really wanna say no, but it kind of is. You’d never ask a witch to do the wards on another witch’s partner. Jinyoung would never ask me to do Jaebum’s wards. There’s too much magic there and too many chances for things to go haywire. So, I’m going to learn offensive magic with Jimin and Yoongi, and then I’ll be able to put a spell on you that’ll, I don’t know, shoot rockets at someone who’s trying to hurt you.”

“That could come in handy if I ever get attacked by the military.”

“Okay, maybe not rockets. But it’ll protect you, and that’s the important part.” Taehyung looked over at him with a softness in his eyes that made Jungkook’s stomach clench. “I love you, Kook. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

“I know, Tae. I love you too.” He squeezed Taehyung’s hand. “Let’s just get home before one of us starts crying and we have an accident.”

“Yeah, Jin will never forgive me if I take out one of his techs.” Taehyung flicked his fingers absently and Jungkook’s vision turned pink-tinged, a soft warmth settling around him like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Jungkook sighed and settled into his seat, enjoying the feeling of Taehyung’s love, secure and gentle. There was something to be said for dating a harmonizer. Jungkook never had to guess the depths of Taehyung’s feelings, because he always shared them with him like this, letting him soak in it. Jungkook felt himself beginning to doze off as Taehyung drove, and the feeling grew snugger around him, like Taehyung was tucking him in. Jungkook knew that Taehyung could sense his feelings and drew up as much love as he could. Taehyung smiled, basking in the sunshine of Jungkook’s adoration.


	5. Lights

“Jin? Sweetheart?” Namjoon shook his shoulder gently. The older man groaned and rolled over, stuffing his head under the pillow.

“I don’t want to go to work.” He complained.

Namjoon stifled a laugh. “Jinnie, you took the day off.”

“Why did I do that?”

Namjoon actually laughed out loud that time. “Baby, it’s our anniversary.”

Seokjin’s head shot out from under the pillow, showing that he was finally fully awake. “Oh!” Namjoon just cuddled him close and petted his disheveled hair away from his face.

“I should have known better than to wake you up.” Namjoon kissed his nose gently. “So, Yugyeom and Jungkook are holding down the office for you, and I don’t have lecture today. What would you like to do?”

“Mm.” Seokjin stretched, waiting for his back to crack, before curling close again. “I suppose we could go out for breakfast, hang out. You can show me how to do that heating potion for Yoongi so you don’t have to be responsible for it.”

“It’s our anniversary and you want to practice making potions?”

“Well I could have said we should stay in bed all day and have sex.”

“That option isn’t off the table.” His phone started ringing on the nightstand next to him. “Why does my mother always call right when we’re talking about this?”

“She’s got a charm on you that tells her when you’re thinking about getting laid.” Seokjin rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom, shutting the door to cut out the noise of Namjoon talking to his mom. Seokjin’s mother-in-law made no secret of the fact that she disapproved of Seokjin and would have preferred that Namjoon married a witch. But Namjoon had been known to flout custom wherever he could, and his choice of husband was no different.

Seokjin was out of the shower by the time Namjoon had gotten off the phone. He had the same pinched look on his face that he always did when he was finished talking to his mother about his husband. Seokjin leaned down and kissed the furrow of his brows.

“Don’t frown. Witch or not, you’ll get wrinkles.” Seokjin reminded him, turning away to the dresser.

“She couldn’t believe we’d been married five years.” Namjoon flopped back on the bed. “And in her own backhanded way, she wished us a happy anniversary.”

“Honestly, one day you should tell her you’ve left me for Yoongi. She’d probably be happier.”

“Nope. Yoongi’s a night witch. To her that’s almost as bad as a normie.”

“Taehyung?”

“Too squirrelly.”

“Jimin?”

“Love mages are dangerous.”

“Hoseok?”

“Now we’re talking. I think she’s actually gone to him for a reading before.” Namjoon yanked his husband back down onto the bed. “But you’re the one I picked.”

“Nothing your mother says is going to convince me you love me any less.” Seokjin kissed him soundly, enjoying the way Namjoon could melt and give in to him. For all his power, for all his strength, he was Seokjin’s, heart and soul.

“Did we decide we’re staying in bed all day?” Namjoon said rather breathlessly when they pulled apart.

“I mean,” Seokjin checked the clock, “We could go have breakfast, and then get back into bed.”

“Let’s do the staying in bed part first, and then go have someone cook us food.”

“I’m always willing to indulge you, Joonie.” He dipped his head to nuzzle against his neck, nipping gently with his teeth. He felt the hands pressed against his broad back heat up slightly. “No burning, we’ve had to replace our sheets five times in the past three months.”

“I can’t help it when you do that.” Namjoon whined. “Don’t kiss my neck if you don’t want me getting fired up.”

Seokjin sighed. “I’m going to start making you wear potholders in bed.” Then he dove back in and left a trail of bites and kisses down Namjoon’s torso, ignoring the smell of scorching cotton fibers. He hoped Jimin and Yoongi had been serious about buying them fireproof sheets for their anniversary.

By the time Seokjin had satisfied his need to worship Namjoon, his husband was a pleading mess, skin flushed red and radiating heat.

“Breathe, Joonie.” Seokjin murmured as he lubed up.

“I need one of those Siphons Jimin has.” Namjoon blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. He was so wound up that he felt like he could explode into flames at any second if Seokjin didn’t just _fuck him_.

“Don’t say another man’s name in bed.” With that, Seokjin pushed in, not stopping until he was buried as deep as he could go. Namjoon’s wail echoed in his ears.

“Fuck, Jinnie, please.”

“Whatever you want, my love.” Seokjin leaned down and gave him a sweet kiss. “Anything you want.” It was easy to lose himself in Namjoon, in the sights and sounds and sensations of having sex with him. He was beautiful, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. Seokjin threw all that desperate adoration behind his hips, thrusting into Namjoon so hard their entire bed moved.

“Please, please.” Namjoon was begging, the most beautiful sound in the world. Seokjin hooked one of his legs over his shoulder, opening him up further to him.

Seokjin fucked him twice before he was satisfied. There were smoldering marks on their sheets where Namjoon had grabbed them, and Seokjin’s back was marked with pink burns.

“Shower?” Namjoon mumbled lazily against Seokjin’s shoulder. They toddled off to the bathroom, crowding under the showerhead together. They’d been together so long that they didn’t bother fooling around in the shower anymore. They vastly preferred beds or flat surfaces, somewhere they could go for as long as they wanted and the way they wanted. Instead, they talked about the elemental magic course Namjoon was teaching and Jinyoung’s upcoming guest appearance. Yugyeom didn’t feel comfortable lecturing yet, not when he’d barely had his powers for a year, so the sea witch had volunteered to teach the class for a day.

“You need to let me put ointment on your back, those aren’t just scalds.” Namjoon said as they got out of the shower.

“I was going to ask you to do it for me actually.” If it hurt worse than a sunburn, Seokjin always went for the ointment that Namjoon and Mark had developed using Jackson’s nursing expertise. Some of it was normal burn remedies, aloe and the like, but with Mark’s knowledge of magical plants and Namjoon’s magic added in, the burns healed almost immediately and rarely scarred.

“You just want me to put my hands on you.” Namjoon teased, rubbing the ointment between his palms. Seokjin let out a small hiss of relief when the magic swept across his skin, relieving the pain.

“It’s our anniversary, your hands should be on me.”

“Fair enough.” He kissed the back of Seokjin’s shoulder. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope, feels good. Now let’s go get some food.”

They spent most of their day doing normal anniversary things, going out to lunch and then poking around shops for little things to commemorate the day. They’d always avoided presents in favor of picking out some knick-knack that would remind them of their anniversary whenever they saw it. Seokjin thought it was a much better idea, especially since he and Namjoon both would have given sex as an anniversary present. It was better to clutter their mantelpiece than end up killing each other on their anniversary because they’d fucked themselves to death.

Seokjin had fully intended to cook dinner for them when they got home, but he was just too lazy to spend time in the kitchen fixing food. Namjoon ordered from their favorite Indian place instead, urging his husband to just relax on the couch.

Seokjin watched as Namjoon wandered around their kitchen, rattling off their order through the phone. He’d spent the last seven years of his life with that man. He’d learned what witches were, what Namjoon’s power entailed, and had loved him all the more for it. He had married a fire mage knowing full well what danger it could put him in. His in-laws didn’t love him, and Seokjin’s own family didn’t understand Namjoon very well, mostly because they didn’t know he was a witch. His rune tattoos looked vaguely Satanic to them, and the tattoo of Seokjin’s face didn’t help much either.

But they had their own family of sorts, witches and normies alike. Seokjin had never regretted the choices he’d made to be with Namjoon, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. Five years of marriage that had probably taken ten years off Seokjin’s life, but they were worth every bit of stress and worry and frustration.

They ate their dinner in their backyard, enjoying the cool night air and the good food and each other’s company. They toasted their anniversary with the bottle of champagne Yugyeom and Jungkook had surprised Seokjin with at work.

“I have a surprise for you.” Namjoon said when they’d finished their first glasses. Seokjin raised an eyebrow.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s not, like, a present or a sex thing.” Namjoon rubbed his palms together. “It’s just…a surprise.” Seokjin sat up straight in his chair, attention focused on his husband. It seemed to help his nerves. He took a deep breath, rubbed his hands together once more, and light exploded through their backyard.

Seokjin could hardly believe his eyes. He sat slack-jawed watching the tiny fireworks exploding in kaleidoscope patterns, in a million different colors and combinations. He’d seen a lot of beautiful things in his life, but this was the most. He was misty-eyed when the final light died away.

“Namjoon, that was…that was everything. That was _magic_.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Namjoon smiled bashfully. “I was practicing for a while.”

“It was perfect, thank you so much baby.” Seokjin leaned across the table to kiss him.

“Happy anniversary, Jinnie.”

“Happy anniversary, Joonie. And to many more.”


End file.
